There was a Starbucks near the baggage claim. Cassie bought a vanilla latte for Erin and a caramel macchiato for herself. Their fingers touched when Cassie handed over the cup. Erin smiled at her, and Cassie looked away, her cheeks warm. It was too early.
They sat on a bench by the window, Cassie’s carry-on tucked beside them. Neither said anything. What were you supposed to say to your friend’s mom at the end of your … affair or whatever the fuck they were calling this? Cassie slouched in her seat, stretched her legs out. If her ankle came to rest against Erin’s, so be it. Erin’s eyes crinkled at their corners, and Cassie was pretty sure she was hiding a smile behind her coffee cup. Cassie’s face flushed hotter.
Eventually, there was nothing to do but go through security.
Erin walked her upstairs. It was still too early for the line to be anything other than short, so Cassie and Erin stood off to the side. Cassie shoved her hands in her coat pockets. Erin scratched at her neck.
“So this was fun,” Cassie said. She shifted on her feet.
“Don’t make this awkward, Cassie,” Erin said.
“I’m not!” Cassie protested, knowing she was. “It was fun, for real.”
“It was.”
“Yeah, I’m really glad you stopped denying my hotness.” Cassie grinned.
Erin shoved her shoulder. “You’re an idiot.”
“So I’ve been told.”
There was a moment where they just stood there smiling at each other, then Cassie wasn’t really sure who moved first but suddenly they were kissing.
She was mildly aware that they were in public, but she didn’t really care that they were kissing too hard to be family friendly. Almost no one was at the airport. So they were giving the TSA guys a little thrill, who cared?
She was wobbly on her feet when they pulled back, and Erin kept her hands on Cassie’s hips until she was steady. Erin grinned like she knew the effect she had. Cassie kissed her again, quick, to wipe it off her face.
“Thanks for bringing me to the airport,” she said, hefting her carry-on more securely over her shoulder.
“Have a good semester,” Erin said.
Cassie didn’t look back until she was through security. Erin was in the same place she’d left her. She gave a wave, and Cassie swallowed thickly before giving a brief nod and turning to go.
Cassie was eating dinner that night, settled in and comfortable in her apartment, when she got a text.
Erin [7:23 PM]
You got me sick Cassie [7:24 PM]
I told you not to kiss me! It’s not my fault!
Cassie [7:24 PM]
I hope you feel better tho. At least it’s just like a 24 hour bug Erin [7:25 PM]
It was worth it;)
Fourteen
ERIN
Even after five whole years of talking to Carolyn, Erin still felt like she should ask her therapist more about her own life, like she shouldn’t take up the entire hour talking about herself, which was literally what she was paying for. She always got over the impulse once she got on a roll, but she stumbled through the first few minutes of conversation.
“Did you have a good holiday?” Erin asked.
“I did, thank you,” Carolyn said. “How about you?”
Erin nodded. “It was nice.”
“Parker was home, right? Is she still there?”
“She is,” Erin said. “I’ve got her for another week.”
“How’s that going?”
“Great.” It was an instinctual response. Don’t admit weakness. Don’t let anyone know you’re not perfect. Erin took a breath and tried again. “Pretty good, for the most part. She brought a friend home for the first two weeks, which I was worried about, but I think it helped.”
“Why were you worried about it?”
Erin had never intentionally lied to her therapist before. It seemed like that defeated the point of therapy.
She was absolutely lying about this.
“I think I was afraid Parker would use her friend as an excuse to not interact with me? Which—I know that doesn’t make sense. We’re doing well. Better than we have been for a long time. We’re past her not interacting with me, I hope.”
Carolyn reaffirmed Erin, asked more questions, let her talk. It was a typical therapy session except for the way Erin avoided the thing she needed to talk about the most.
No, that wasn’t right. She didn’t need to talk to her therapist about Cassie. It was fine! It happened. It was fun. It was over.
Toward the end of session, Carolyn asked if she could make a suggestion. Erin braced herself. Carolyn’s suggestions tended to, as Rachel would say, drag her for filth.
“Maybe it’s time to have that conversation with Parker.”
“What?”
“About the divorce. About the whys. About what you want for her.”
It was a conversation Erin had been wanting to have. Or—that wasn’t exactly true, either. She didn’t want to have the conversation, but she wanted Parker to know.
Parker hadn’t forgiven her for the divorce. They’d moved on, but that didn’t mean Erin was forgiven. She wanted Parker to understand. The divorce? It was for Erin, yes, but for Parker, too. Erin learned to put herself first because she wanted to model that for her daughter.
“Can’t I just write her a letter or something?”
“Sometimes we have to do things that make us uncomfortable for people we love.”
Erin knew that, obviously. And she had to have the conversation with Parker eventually. She’d tried, once, during the divorce, but she and Parker were both too close to it then. Erin hadn’t been able to talk about it without blaming Adam—to be fair, a lot of the blame lay at his feet. But he was a good dad, and Parker loved him, and she hadn’t yet seemed to realize he wasn’t perfect. She’d figured that out about Erin long ago.
With some distance from the divorce, Erin refused to be the one to show Parker her father wasn’t perfect. The conversation had to be about her, not about the divorce.
Erin tried when she got home. Parker asked how therapy was and Erin didn’t just say good and move on. She tried being more honest.
“Okay,” she said, tilting her head back and forth as she tried to find words for the session. “Sometimes I feel like I’m doing it wrong.”
Erin’s mother would’ve died at the thought of going to therapy, and she would roll over in her grave knowing Erin actually spoke to her daughter about it.
“It’s like that sometimes,” Parker said. “Did I tell you I’m going at the student center now?”
“You are?”
“Yeah. Sasha had offered to do virtual visits when I went to school, but I like it better in person.”
Parker had been in therapy since the divorce, because Erin had wanted her to have someone objective to talk to. Someone not on Erin’s or Adam’s side, but on Parker’s.
“How’s it going?”
“Okay,” Parker mimicked her earlier answer. “It’s weird having to catch my new therapist up on all my childhood trauma.”
“Oh, yes, that sounds horrible. How have you had time to fill her in on all the ways your mother is wretched?”
Parker giggled. Erin flicked water on her before drying her hands.
They could be more honest, more vulnerable, without having to fully bare themselves. Baby steps.
They would have the conversation, eventually.
* * *